


Priorities

by spowell Once and Future Series (SPowell)



Series: Once and Future [5]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Returns, BAMF!Merlin, Jealous!Arthur, M/M, Magic, Post 5X13, continuing series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 21:03:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1662350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/spowell%20Once%20and%20Future%20Series
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur faces the music.</p><p>Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to BBC and Shine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Priorities

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Camelot land challenge 3 The Big One, prompts: tomb of Ashkanar and Gedref.

Arthur finds himself standing in front of the library. He’s worked off most of his negative feelings—at least those involving finding one Brandon Davies and slicing his head off with his sword. (If Arthur still had a sword, that is—which is just another way Arthur feels out of place in this land that has grown a thousand years, leaving him far behind.)

And really, Arthur muses as he climbs the stone steps to the library door, isn’t that what Merlin’s done? Or what he should have done? How could he have helped but leave Arthur behind during all those years-- day after day piling up one upon the other? Merlin has been through what amounts to a thousand lifetimes, and Arthur hasn’t asked him about even one of them.

There’s a reason for that, of course; Arthur can’t bear to hear it. To him, time has been nothing but a long night’s sleep from which he awoke to a brighter, clearer picture of his feelings juxtaposed with a confusing backdrop that he’s still trying to process. To Merlin time has been year upon year in which to cultivate relationships and experiences of which Arthur’s had no part.

Arthur finds it frankly amazing that Merlin remembers him at all.

As Arthur enters the large, cool interior of the library, he can’t help but reflect on the fact that gone is his kingdom, his castle, his very identity—and left is little else.

A young woman wearing glasses with fashionable frames and bright crimson lipstick raises her head from a pile of books she’s stacking and smiles at Arthur as he hesitates in the entry. He smiles back, noting the brief look of interest in her eyes. He can’t help but wonder how many women have looked at Merlin like that over the years, and how many of their hearts Merlin’s brightened with his smile.

Arthur turns and makes his way to the nonfiction section, choosing to bury himself in research about places and things still fresh in his mind, no matter how dead they are to others.

Arthur finds a comfortable chair and places a large tome with the title _Tomb of Ashkanar_ in it to save his seat before wandering over to peruse the shelves. Once he has several books of interest, he settles in, letting his mind seep into another time and another place, forgetting for the moment that he’s been replanted in a new world that has no use for him.

“Excuse me, sir, but the library will be closing in ten minutes.”

Arthur looks up from the heavy book full of maps, his finger poised on the place where he thought Gedref was once known to lay, and blinks at the woman bending over his chair.

“Sorry?”

“We’re closing.” It’s the woman he saw earlier upon entering. She smiles at him and gestures to the stack of books on the table beside his chair. “I’ll just reshelf these, unless you’re checking them out?”

“Oh, no.” Arthur closes the book of maps. “Thank you.” When she leaves, he stands and stretches, realizing with surprise that his bum has fallen asleep. He glances toward the tall double windows, a little alarmed to see that it's dark outside.

Knowing Merlin won’t be happy with him, Arthur quickly leaves the library and sets home at a brisk pace, pushing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and hunching his shoulders against the chilly evening air.

All the lights in the flat are on, and as soon as Arthur opens the door, he can tell he’s in trouble.

The hall is in disarray. Not just messy, but upside down. Arthur’s never seen anything like it; the hall tree is on its head; the small table by the front door is floating several inches above the floor, legs in the air; the bright scatter rug is plastered to the ceiling. Through the wide archway Arthur can plainly see into the living area where the couch is turned on end, cushions in pieces, and the dining table and chairs are stuck to a wall in a tableau that looks a bit like the strange modern art Arthur’s seen in a book at the shop. Paper has exploded over the coffee table where Merlin’s computer sits open, and lamps and various knick-knacks lay strewn about the floor, hopelessly broken.

“Merlin?” Arthur calls tentatively, and a light bulb immediately bursts in answer.

“Nice of you to come home,” Merlin says, appearing from the bedroom, and Arthur immediately feels like shite.

Merlin looks terrible. His eyes are red-rimmed and swollen, and he’s wringing his hands. Merlin sees Arthur looking and immediately stills the motion, glaring balefully and narrowing his eyes, several tears escaping from their corners.

“Merlin, I’m sorry,” Arthur says immediately, because there really isn’t anything else to say.

“You’re sorry,” Merlin repeats, the soft lines of his lips hardening even as he wipes furiously at his tears with trembling fingers. Arthur jumps at the sound of the hall table falling to the floor.

“Yes. Very,” Arthur tells him. “I didn’t mean to stay gone so long. I went to the library and got interested in a book. Well, several books, actually.”

“Books.” Merlin’s nostrils flair. “So you left the shop…where we sell _books_ …in order to come home, go through my emails, and then run off to spend hours looking at _books_ at the _library_! Do I have that right, Arthur?”

Arthur manages to look sheepish.

“Er, yeah. But it was purely by accident. I went for a walk and just ended up at the library.” He looks at the floor, flinching as several crashes from the living room hail the abrupt descent of the furniture.

“Did you enjoy perusing my private correspondence before you left?” Merlin asks quietly.

How to answer that? “Noo… I mean, I didn’t enjoy doing that, no, of course not. But I needed to do it—that is, I had to know.” Arthur clamps his mouth shut; he was never one to babble.

“Know what, exactly?” Merlin asks, gaze holding steady. There’s a touch of gold at the rims of the blue irises, and Arthur is smart enough to be a little afraid, although he knows Merlin won’t hurt him. Much.

“I just…Merlin,” Arthur huffs, unable to collect his thoughts and put them properly into words. “I wanted to know if you and that Davies man were close,” he forces out, anger returning.

Merlin straightens his back, crossing his arms over his chest. “And if we were? Arthur, you can’t imagine I’d spend all these years alone.”

At the thought of Davies and Merlin together, perhaps intimately, Arthur swings around in sudden fury and punches the wall behind him as hard as he can.

“Fuck!” he yells, pain shooting up his arm.

Merlin turns and walks back into the bedroom, the sound of the rest of the things in the flat falling back to the floor punctuating his exit, along with the slam of the door.

More than hour later, after Arthur has calmed himself somewhat and iced his hand until moving it is bearable, he ventures quietly into the darkened bedroom.

“Merlin?”

Arthur’s surprised to find that Merlin isn't lying down, but rather huddled on the corner of the bed.

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?” Arthur thinks of the destroyed cushions and hopes Merlin doesn’t say yes.

When Merlin speaks, his voice is so tight with anger, Arthur finds himself taking a small step back. It seems Merlin hasn’t calmed at all during the break.

“I am so… _angry_ with you right now, Arthur. So _fucking angry_.”

Arthur stands for what seems a dozen silent moments, air charged with emotion, before turning for the door.

“Right, then. I’ll be in the living room,” he says quietly, hoping Merlin will be calm enough to talk things out in the morning.

Merlin gives a half sob, half laugh. “Get back here.”

Arthur stops. “What?”

“If you think,” Merlin says grimly, “that after waiting hundreds of years for you, I’m going to let one night pass without you lying next to me, you’re out of your mind.”

Warmth pools in Arthur’s chest, and he takes a few tentative steps toward the bed, watching Merlin uncurl and stretch out.

Arthur pulls his clothes off until he’s only in his shorts and climbs under the covers. Merlin immediately gravitates toward him, tugging Arthur into his arms, their bodies moulding together and settling in such an easy manner—warm and good and perfect-- that it brings tears to Arthur’s eyes.

“Don’t think I’m not still murderously angry with you,” Merlin says into Arthur’s shoulder, tone already a bit less bitter. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Arthur sighs, curling his fingers into the soft hair at Merlin’s nape and pressing his lips to Merlin’s temple, body slowly relaxing from the strain of the day.

A glass pops and shatters in the kitchen, making Arthur jump, and he feels the small smile curl on Merlin’s lips where they rest against Arthur's skin.

Arthur breathes deeply of Merlin's scent, closes his eyes, and drifts off to sleep.

 

 


End file.
